


Of Seagulls and Strange Galaxies

by mayachain



Category: Stargate Atlantis
Genre: Alien Culture, Community: mini_nanowrimo, Earth, Friendship/Love, Future Fic, Gen, Multi, POV Female Character, Pre-Slash, Rituals
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-11-15
Updated: 2010-11-15
Packaged: 2017-10-13 05:48:22
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,971
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/133656
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mayachain/pseuds/mayachain
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Stranded on Earth, Teyla's team is in need of reconnection, Athosian style.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Of Seagulls and Strange Galaxies

**Author's Note:**

> References to canon pairings.

* * *

“This is something my people do in times of discontent,” Teyla explained to the three men she had summoned to her quarters. Her words effectively cut short Rodney's protests at the sight of the highly feared ceremonial tray. Guilty silence was the most prominent response to any mention of the Athosians these days.

Under her watchful eyes, her teammates sat down on the pillows she had arranged in a loose circle. “So what do we do,“ John asked. He and Ronon looked the most comfortable on her floor, legs automatically bent into the position she had taught them for meditation. Ronon gestured for Rodney to mirror them, and he did so, grumbling under his breath.

She could not perform the _tena ei_ as it would have been done on Athos. On Athos, the circle would have comprised more than four people, children as well as adults. The participants would have gathered outside so that birdsong and the rustling of trees could have accompanied their meeting. Teyla had considered asking Major Lorne for a recording of a forest during wind, but had decided that the act of gathering itself was most important. Still, she was grateful for the sound of waves in this alien galaxy, breaking against the piers of Atlantis in the middle of the San Francisco Bay.

“We begin with this,” she told the men and lifted her steaming cup of tea. With a meaningful look at Rodney, she drank deeply.

They needed this. Teyla herself felt weary and homesick, far away from her son and her people. Ronon was restless, kept away from the fight he had dedicated his life to. Even John and Rodney were not happy, and this place that they could not leave was the planet of their birth. Since the start of the fifth month, they had grown more frustrated by the day. There was no end in sight to their separation from Pegasus. The constant state of uncertainty was poisoning their high regard for one another, and it was showing in their relationships outside the team as well: In the tension between Ronon and Amelia, in the strain between Rodney and Jennifer, in the tone John took with his marines, in the way she herself could barely be civil toward Richard Woolsey.

Ronon and John both drank obediently. Rodney sniffed at his cup suspiciously, then blew away the steam and took a tiny sip. As she had hoped, his expression smoothed out and he went back for another taste. “In the absence of fresh _mina_ leaves, I asked Dr. Kusanagi for a mixture you would like,” Teyla said gently, warmth seeping through her from the tea itself and from his “Yeah, that's... not half bad, actually, although it's got nothing on coffee.” Ronon leaned over and smacked him on the back of the head, causing a yelp. She caught John hiding a grin. Already the atmosphere was much lighter than during breakfast this morning.

There were ritual words that she should speak, that would set their minds into the right mood for the sharing. But the century-old _ritu_ Charin had taught her would be reduced to a poor translation in her companions' ears, and even if it could remain unchanged, ancient Athosian would mean nothing to these men. Instead, the wisest way to proceed was likely to be as direct as possible.

“Now that we have initiated the _tena ei_ , we close our eyes,” she said and did so. They might be ignorant of the reasons, but she trusted that they had too much respect for her to not follow suit. “We look inside ourselves, and we find one thing to share that would make us happy.” She opened her eyes, looked into John's blinking, startled ones and specified, “Something that would make us happy which one or all of the others can give.”

There was a long silence. She watched each of them, their hands closed around their cups, eyes closed in unease, in trust, in concentration. “You may have more tea,” she said and closed her own eyes again as they all drank, practiced enough by now that not a single drop of _mina_ substitute was spilled. The sound of waves drifted through the window. A seagull landed on a spire. They breathed.

“I wish you would take me to the places where you grew up,” she began. It was not an easy thing to ask of Rodney or John, but the _tena ei_ was for her own benefit, as well. “While I have seen many sights in San Francisco and Colorado, I still do not feel as if I am truly on the world where you were born.”

Three sets of eyes were on her, surprised, questioning, concerned. After a minute, Rodney opened his mouth and hesitated, unsure if the unfamiliar ritual would allow him to speak.

“We could take a few days off,” he offered at her permission. “We could make a weekend of it in Vancouver. Jeannie's pretty pissed we haven't been to visit yet, anyway.”

“Good plan,“ Ronon said.

They all turned to John. He looked extremely uncomfortable, but eventually he conceded, “I guess we could go see Dave.”

Teyla bowed her head in thanks. “ _I drink in gratitude for your promises,_ ” she said and hoped that the depth of meaning somehow translated into English and Satedan. She smiled her approval when all three men lifted their cups to their lips without being asked.

“I wish we could go on a mission,” Ronon spoke up once they were done. “Not like in Pegasus. We don't know enough about the politics here. Just a trip to some other planet.” He took another sip of his tea and then added, staring into the liquid, “The Wraith are still out there. It's too safe here. It makes me feel bad.”

John looked horrified at Ronon's admission. Teyla was not surprised. She had expected him to panic when he realized that simply asking for material things would not be sufficient. His fingers twitched around his cup, tips briefly extended toward where Ronon was sitting.

Teyla hoped he would find the strength to voice his wishes when the time came.

From his place between them, Rodney awkwardly patted Ronon on the shoulder. Teyla laid a hand on her friend's arm as their teammates from Earth looked at one another. _Something the others can give,_ such was the premise of the _tena ei_. In the seconds before John warned, “Landry won't like it,” Teyla wondered if Ronon had asked too much. John grimaced, then continued, “Even if I can get him to let us off-world, there's no way we'll be allowed to go alone.”

“So we take another team,” Rodney countered. “It's not as if SG-1 doesn't owe us a favor or two anyway. And I seem to remember your marines bragging how they've all been off-world in the Milky Way before.”

“Perhaps Colonel Carter could help,” Teyla suggested.

Rodney nearly bounced on his pillow as he pointed at her in excitement. “Yes! The general loves her. And anyway, she likes _us,_ so maybe we could even get her to sneak-beam us if Landry decides to be an ass.” They all laughed at that, and Rodney became only mildly flustered when John muttered, “ _Teyla_ might.”

Without prompting, Ronon raised his cup and said, simply, “Thanks.” They drank. Again, Teyla wished she had thought to keep some dried _mina_ among her other teas, but this was working, it was good.

“I wish you wouldn't leave me to rot in my lab,” Rodney blurted out. “I know that we're not exactly in mortal danger now, and I know there's no way any of you could possibly understand what we're trying to do to the stardrive, but I find that I actually work better if someone's there to distract me. I've had some time to think about it, what with the being stuck here and never going off-world, you know,” he gestured at Ronon, “and it never feels like it because everything always happens way too fast when we're seconds from dying horribly, but if you could slow down time far enough to see, which should be completely impossible but given the indisputable reality of time dilation fields and all the unidentified devices in Janus' lab we probably _could,_ which doesn't mean we should, because we definitely _shouldn't_ – ”

“Breathe, McKay,” Ronon interrupted. Rodney glared at him, but inhaled.

“Anyway, if I could slow down time enough to show you, you could see that you babbling about what your non-genius minds level _think_ should happen actually gives me tiny little breaks. I need those breaks.” He looked directly at John, whose hand was twitching harder than before. “I need you to actually try and check my math.”

This time, Teyla was not the only one to see it, a tiny, aborted jerk in Rodney's direction. When he did nothing more than force out a rough, “I can do that,” Rodney reluctantly tore his eyes away and turned to Ronon.

“I need you to ask stupid but secretly not stupid at all questions.” To Teyla. “I need you to ask me to teach you about the simulations.”

“'m bored anyway,” Ronon shrugged.

Teyla smiled, delighted at the sudden opportunity to learn. She remembered enjoying Major Marks' lessons, and it would be _good_ to do more than talk to the IOA. “I will be honored.”

“My...” Rodney trailed off, looking at Teyla questioningly. She tilted her head at his cup. Like she and Ronon before him, he lifted it to announce the end of his sharing, but he surprised her by saying, “ _My gratitude for your consideration of my request_ ” in Ancient. It was not ancient Athosian, not what Kanaan had said to mark their reunion, but the similarities were balm to her ears. Beaming, she dranks deeply and set her mostly empty cup down. Then she waited.

“I wish,” John started eventually, and stumbled. “I wish,” he tried again. “I wish, I –” The words would not come, but his fingers trembled, reached out toward them in the tiniest of movements. It was enough. Teyla did not even think about snatching up the hand nearest to her.

On John's other side, Rodney moved more hesitantly, but he, too, took hold of one. His eyes flickered back and forth between their joined hands and John's face, wide open and stunned. Ronon's palm landed heavily on John's knee. “This what you mean, Sheppard,” he asked gruffly.

"Yeah," John whispered, almost too quiet to hear.

“You're...” Rodney began, but for once, words failed him also.

John's hand was warm and comfortable in hers, but his grip around Rodney's was very tight. The Rodney McKay she first met would have complained, but now he only shifted a bit to accomodate the strain on his arm, held on with equal strength.

Teyla shared a look with Ronon and bit back a sigh of relief. He recognized it also, this rare sign of true fondness between their friends, she was not imagining things.

John was the most private man she knew. She could not predict if anything would, if anything could come of it in the future. Tonight, though, it did not matter.

“I wish for this as well, John,” she said. She reached out with her other hand and slipped it into Ronon's. Ronon shuffled closer to Rodney until their knees were touching, closing the circle.

In a few moments, Teyla would remind them that they needed to finish their tea, and she would insist they all leave their hands where they were while they did it. For all that they had spent months out of danger, their lives had not contained much levity.

For now, she basked in the restored connection between them, thought of the journeys they would embark upon.

As a team.

* * *


End file.
